


Don't Fuck With My Love

by louissass



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angst, Bottom Louis, Cheating, Eleanor isn't actually in the fic she's just mentioned like three times, M/M, Marriage, Pining, Secrets, Smut, Top Harry, she's basically a plot device oops, so if you want fluff go somewhere else :), this has zero fluff in it just saying
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-30
Updated: 2014-12-30
Packaged: 2018-03-04 09:20:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,199
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3062414
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/louissass/pseuds/louissass
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <em>“You’re getting married next week,” Harry groans as Louis kisses down his jaw. It’s honestly taking all his willpower to not fuck him into the wall right then and there.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Just one last time,” He whispers, biting on Harry’s ear lobe gently, “Please, H, for old time’s sakes,” </em>
</p><p>Or, Louis neglects to tell Harry he's getting married to Eleanor. They fight. Then they fuck.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Don't Fuck With My Love

**Author's Note:**

> This is an apology fic!! I'm so sorry it's taken me so long to update TLIAP and I'm so sorry I haven't updated HATOML either. I'm such a horrible person, I'm truly sorry.
> 
> So why not some Lourry angsty-sex to make it up to you.
> 
> I hope you don't hate me too much to enjoy this little fic. My tumblr is [millionairelouis](http://millionairelouis.tumblr.com) come say hi! Lots of love xox

Harry is just about to get into bed when he hears the tiny tapping on the front door. He’s already in his jim-jams – blue checked trousers and a grey t-shirt – eyes drooping happily at the thought of going to sleep soon. It’s been a long day; three live performances, six radio interviews and two pre-recorded interviews, not to mention spending the whole time being scrutinised by the fans or press. Harry never thought he’d say this, but being happy really is tiring.

He doesn’t think he hears it at first, the soft knock on his hotel door, and starts to clamber in to bed, but then he hears it again, louder this time, accompanied by a whisper of, _“Harry? Are you awake?”_

He almost doesn’t answer the door even when he knows he’s not going crazy, because it’s Louis, and Harry is mad with Louis at the moment. Well, that’s not strictly true, Harry could never be mad at him, but he is definitely sad and disheartened. The thing is, Harry is Louis’ best friend, the person Louis tells everything to, but the one thing he apparently thought it would be best to tell everyone else first, was probably the most important thing he could ever ‘coincidently’ miss out of a conversation.

Like, how difficult is it to say, _‘hey Harry? I’m engaged. Oh, and the wedding’s next week.’_ Why did Harry have to find out from one of the crew instead of his best mate?

“Harry? I know you’re in there, I can hear you breathing,” Louis says quietly, startling Harry out of his frown. He’s standing just behind the door now, hand resting on the metal handle, contemplating letting Louis in, but not quite willing to actually do so.

Harry snorts loudly and finds himself speaking before he can even think about stopping himself, “That’s a bit weird, innit? Stalkerish, even,”

Harry’s eyes widen and he slaps his hand over his mouth. He wasn’t quite ready to tell Louis he was there, standing behind the door and having an existential crisis like some poor saddo whose heart has been broken (it hasn’t). There’s a soft thud and Harry guesses Louis has rested his head against the door. He’s breathing louder now, urgent and rushed.

“Please let me in,” Louis mumbles, whimpering when Harry snorts again, “Harry _please_ , I hate leaving it like this. I can’t sleep until I know we’re okay,”

Really, he was going to let him in eventually, just wanted to make him sweat a little bit, so he knows what is feels like to be kept in the dark (or maybe he needed a little bit of persuading, but that’s okay too). Harry sighs and opens the door, catching Louis by the arm when he starts to fall into the room. Honestly, he’s so clumsy it’s ridiculous.

“Bit dark in here, isn’t it?” Louis says, apparently trying to break the ice when an awkward silence descends over them. That’s– that doesn’t happen to them, not ever.

“Well, I mean, I _was_ just about to go to sleep,” Harry mutters, before nodding with his head behind him, offering Louis inside properly so he can shut the door. The bright lights from the hall are ruining his bat cave. “Head to the bedroom, yeah? We can talk in there,”

Louis clicks his tongue, but leaves the hallway without a word. Harry shuts the door quietly and rests his head against it with a sigh, eyes closed. This is a bad idea, it’s only going to end badly. Most definitely, it’ll go one of two ways; a massive fight that neither of them can go back from, or Louis apologising (possibly crying) and Harry forgiving him, neither of which he wants to do. Why does Harry do this to himself?

With one last deep breath, Harry leaves the hallway and follows Louis in to the bedroom, switching the dimmer on low as he passes the switch, so he can actually see the other man’s face. Bad idea. Louis looks awful, eyes puffy and red – probably from crying – hair dishevelled and a little bit greasy, lips bitten red raw. It makes Harry want to wrap him in a blanket and feed him tea and rich-tea’s until he falls asleep.

Instead, he leans against the doorframe, arms crossed and an eyebrow raised, “Well?”

“I’m… Sorry?” Louis mumbles, though he doesn’t sound like he means it, which, Harry wouldn’t have expected any less.

Harry snorts again and looks away from the older man, “Are you?”

There’s a silence after that. It drags out between them as they both wait for Louis to answer, and honestly it really doesn’t seem like he’s going to any time soon. He looks to the wardrobe and breathes deeply, before turning back to Harry and nodding, biting his lip, “Yes,”

“Okay,” Harry takes a deep breath, in and out, just to stop himself from punching Louis in the face. “Okay that’s a start,”

“What do you want me to say, Harry?” Louis asks, voice raising. He throws his hands in the air and stands up from the bed, and in the back of Harry’s mind, he sort of knows where this is going, but he doesn’t say anything, “That I regret not telling you? Because I don’t,”

“You lied to me, Lou,” Harry says slowly, willing himself to stay calm. He’s too tired for this shit, “You told me you were ending it with her,”

Louis’ shoulders sag and he sighs, closing his eyes, “I was– I couldn’t. I had to,”

“What do you mean you had to,” Harry snorts, “No one’s stopping you from leaving her, Louis, no one except you. I know you, don’t bullshit me,”

Another silence and a pained expression on Louis’ face, like he’s contemplating life or death. It seems he chooses to keep yet another secret from Harry, because he ignores what he says and goes down a different route, face going soft. “I don’t want to marry her, H, you have to believe me,”

“Why should I do that?” Harry says. He straightens up a little when Louis starts walking over, so they’re toe to toe, and rests a hand on his cheek, “Why should I believe anything you say?”

Louis doesn’t say anything to that. He smiles kindly, sadly, eyes dropping at the corners slightly as he stares into Harry’s eyes. His thumbs starts to stroke Harry’s cheek, his fingers winding in the hair at the base of his neck. Harry doesn’t stop him. “Just–”

But he doesn’t say anything else, just surges forward, and the next thing Harry knows, his lips are covered by Louis’. He tastes like tea and hobnobs, and Harry tries to unfold his arms to pull the shorter boy closer, but he’s already as close as one could get, trapping Harry’s arms between them. Harry sighs and opens his mouth, sucking on Louis’ tongue. They snog for a while, Harry finally managing to wrap his arms around Louis’ waist, until Eleanor’s shrill voice pops into his head and he pulls away with a small gasp.

“Louis,” He says. Harry’s voice is deep and he’s panting heavily – this is what Louis does to him. “We can’t,”

Louis whimpers and flips them over so he’s pinned to the wall, “Please,”

“You’re getting married next week,” Harry groans as Louis kisses down his jaw. It’s honestly taking all his willpower to not fuck him into the wall right then and there.

“Just one last time,” He whispers, biting on Harry’s ear lobe gently, “Please, H, for old time’s sakes,”

“You mean it this time,” Harry mutters, pushing Louis further into the wall. He knows he should stop, but he can’t, Louis’ body is just so perfect, “After tonight we stop,”

Louis nods and says, _“Promise,”_ and that’s all Harry needs to attach their lips for good, immediately sucking on Louis’ tongue.

Louis’ hands immediately go to his hair, winding his fingers in Harry’s messy curls and making the younger boy moan. He has a very sensitive scalp, and even if he didn’t, Louis is amazing with his hands. In response, Harry pushes further into the wall, lines their cocks up, and grinds against the smaller boy in long, slow movements. Louis moans wildly, hitches one leg up around Harry’s waist and grips his hair even tighter, so much it almost hurts.

It only spurs him on even more, the new angle causing his definitely-more-hard-than-a-semi cock to fill up even more. Harry can feel Louis growing beneath him and somehow comes to the conclusion that it’s time to move this forward. He takes hold of Louis’ other leg and wraps it round his waist along with the other one, both hands moving to the smaller boy’s bum for support. Louis squeals quietly, clinging on to Harry tighter when he thinks he’s going to fall – as if he would let that happen – but it quickly turns into a moan when Harry grinds him into the wall once again.

And then he’s blindly walking backwards, hoping it’s in the vague direction of the bed (Harry really hasn’t been staying in this room long enough to know for sure) whilst still sucking on Louis’ tongue, the shared space between them becoming hot and wet with saliva. When his legs hit the wooden frame, Harry sighs in relief and lets the two of them fall back, thankfully hitting the soft mattress and not the floor. That would’ve been embarrassing.

Louis’ knees are either side of his waist, and he’s grinding their cocks together teasingly slow, Harry can definitely feel himself grow in his jim-jams, and only notices a moment too late that they’re both still fully clothed. He pulls at Louis’ t-shirt, hitching it up and dancing his fingers along the older boy’s chest, before Louis finally gets the hint and sits up, chest heaving, to pull his shirt off.

His joggers come next and Harry can’t really help but smirk and raise his eyebrows, fingers pinching at Louis’ sides, “No pants?”

Louis just shrugs, kicking the clothing off his feet and clambering back over to Harry, trying to get at his mouth again. But Harry isn’t having it – if this really is going to be the last time, he’s going to milk it for all it’s worth – and flips them over quickly, so Louis is pressed to the bed and Harry is staring down at him.

“It’s almost like you planned this,” he mutters, pushing his clothed erection into Louis’, who gasps loudly, “Like you didn’t come here to apologise at all, you just wanted to get fucked,”

“No, no, _please,_ Harry,” Louis gasps, chasing his lips when Harry pulls away to get rid of his own t-shirt. “I didn’t, I swear, wanted to make things right between us. Wanted to see you,”

Harry just ignores him, leaning down to press one last kiss on his lips, before getting up completely to take off his pyjama bottoms (no pants as well, but c’mon, he was about to go to sleep). “Well if getting fucked is what you want, I’m sure I can manage that,”

Louis groans low in his throat, grappling for Harry, who is still sitting up, looking down at an already pretty wrecked Louis, despite only just getting started. Harry smirks to himself and reaches for the lube on the bedside table (he’s _lonely_ , okay) dribbling the smallest amount onto two of his fingers, before sliding them deep inside the naked boy. He knows Louis can take it, he actually _likes_ the pain. Louis whines this time, his eyes shut tight, pulling at his hair just for something to hold on to.

Normally, when Harry fingers anyone, not just Louis, he takes his time, opening them up slowly, hitting spots inside them they can’t reach themselves, kissing and licking all over their body, maybe sucking on their cock as well – if they’ve got one. But he hasn’t got time for that today. Harry’s really hard, probably going to blow in two seconds if Louis keeps making those noises, as if Harry’s already hit his prostate. He avoids it on purpose, spreads his fingers out wide, until Louis is rocking down on them, and then he puts in two more, just for an added stretch.

When people say Louis is a tease, it always makes Harry laugh. Because he is a tease, but honestly Harry can definitely be twenty times worse when he wants to, especially to Louis. On some thrusts, he’ll put four fingers in, some he’ll take out three and just go for one, others he’ll go for two or three fingers. There’s no pattern to it, and it always drives Louis crazy, not knowing how much he’s going to be stretched by, not knowing how many fingers he’s getting on that particular thrust until they’re inside him.

“Harry I’m ready,” Louis gasps out, after he’s probably been teased enough – but that doesn’t mean Harry is going to stop, “Please, _please,_ get inside me, I’m ready for you, H, so ready,”

Harry’s hand falters for a moment, Louis already sounds so wrecked, and so far he’s only been fingered. It will never fail to amaze him. “You think so, baby? Think your tiny hole is stretched enough for my cock?”

“ _Yes,_ yes, yes, yes please, Harry, _please,_ ” Louis is crying now, small tear tracks making their way from the corner of his eyes to the tips of his ears, and Harry thinks he looks beautiful. He honestly can’t think of a time where Louis hasn’t cried during sex, but he’s always been assured that it’s a release of sexual frustration, rather than discomfort.

“Well, you asked for it,” He shrugs, lubing his cock thoroughly (although Louis likes it to burn, Harry doesn’t want to permanently damage the poor sod) before pushing the head up against Louis’ hole. Louis sobs loudly again, mumbling some sort of beg, which Harry absolutely _loves_ , and so the taller boy decides to tease him further. Just because he wants it so bad.

He pushes the head in slowly, but pulls out quickly when the rest of his cock starts to follow. Louis squirms and whines loudly, desperate for Harry's cock. He does it again and again, until the bed sheets are saturated with sweat and tears, until Louis’ thrashing so much on the bed that Harry has to kneel on his thighs or risk getting kicked in the balls, until the only words he can say are _“Harry”_ and _“please”_. Harry pushes in, in one fluid motion, making him groan and Louis sigh – both probably out of relief. He rests for a bit, purely because he needs to catch his breath, and not blow right then and there, but then Louis is grabbing his hips and pushing him in ever so slightly, the way Louis feels around him, he can’t not fuck in to him.

Harry fucks in hard and deep, the way they both love, nailing Louis’ prostate every single time, and it drives them both wild. He’s sweating and panting, hands either side of Louis’ head to hold himself up, knees pushing into Louis’ thighs to keep him open. Louis– Louis is just completely gone. His head is thrown back on the pillows, hair sticking to his head with sweat, his eyes are shut tight, but Harry can still see the tears that stick his eyelashes together and sometimes bubble over, running down his cheeks. Louis’ legs, which were wrapped around Harry’s waist, now fall open, making it easier for him to thrust in deeper. His arms are clinging to Harry’s back like his life depends on it, blunt nails digging into his flesh, finger pads running roughly up and down his spine.

It’s a beautiful sight, really, and Harry may or may not jab his prostate even harder, just to see his back arch off the bed, his neck extending as he whines and cries and digs his fingers even harder into Harry’s back. Harry knows he is the only man Louis has ever been with, and honestly he thinks himself extremely lucky because of that – no one else has seen Louis like this, so completely and _utterly_ fucked out, like he was born to bottom. It’s a shame, this is not only the last time Louis is getting fucked by Harry, but he knows it’s also the last time Louis will get fucked by anyone. He wouldn’t trust anyone else to do this.

Maybe that’s the reason Harry lets this drag on for as long as he does, wanting to permanently burn the image of Louis looking so gorgeous, all laid out for him, in his brain. Or maybe it’s because he’s a massive tease and likes to see Louis struggle to keep it in. No one will ever know (except Harry, Harry will always know). So he waits, purposefully puts off his own orgasm so that Louis will suffer for as long as possible, but when he screams, _“Harry I can’t, please, can’t hold it in anymore,”_ well, Harry isn’t cruel. He lets the boy come.

Once they’ve both come down from their highs, enough to see and speak relatively coherently, Harry pulls out and rolls over, so he’s lying next to Louis on the bed, staring up at the ceiling. It’s silent, apart from their mad panting, and Louis’ occasional little shudders of after-shocks, and Harry has an overwhelming urge to turn the light off fully, crawl under the covers, and cuddle Louis until they both fall asleep. He knows he can’t, though, it’s the rule.

Louis turns his head to the side after a while, and Harry does as well, “Harry,”

“Hmm?”

“Thanks. For that, uhm,” Louis mumbles, glancing down to Harry’s bare chest for a split second, “And sorry. Y’know, that this didn’t work out,”

Harry hums again, his dry throat scratching when he gulps, “Never really expected it to.”

“That’s a lie,” Louis snorts, kicking his leg out to nudge his knee with Harry’s thigh. Harry grins and looks back up at the ceiling.

“Yeah,” he says, “I know,”

They lie there for a while longer, until Harry needs the toilet and gets up to do his business. He comes back in the room with clean jim-jams on – a navy blue shirt and joggers this time – to find Louis spread eagle, conked out on top of the duvet. Well, he can’t actually be asleep, because his mouth isn’t open, and he isn’t snoring softly, but he definitely looks like he intends on staying like that for a while.

Harry just sighs, clambering under the duvet and staring at Louis’ jaw line. “Quit staring at me,”

“You need to go, Louis,” Harry says quietly, trying to mask how startled he sounds from Louis’ sudden exclamation. From the grin on Louis’ face, it’s safe to say he failed.

“Yeah,” Louis says, opening one eye and turning to face Harry once again, “I know,”

And before Harry knows it, every trace of their midnight sex-capades is gone, leaving him alone in his cold, empty room, with only his memories to keep him company, and the sad whisper of _“I love you,”_ running through his brain.

**Author's Note:**

> So...yeah, that just happened.
> 
> Just so you know, I feel so bad that nothing is going to be updated any time soon, I just haven't had the motivation to write recently. This is what college does to me. Sigh.
> 
> Please leave kudos//comment//don't kill me//dont bathe in my blood//love me for the procrastinator I am//have a good 2015 xox


End file.
